


The Sweetest Name

by DraceDomino



Series: Smutty Shorts [16]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Futanari, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Romance, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 22:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraceDomino/pseuds/DraceDomino
Summary: Widowmaker finds herself falling for this cocky, uncultured cowgirl...no matter the names she's called along the way.





	The Sweetest Name

The Sweetest Name  
Widowmaker & Ashe

“Heh..ain’t that somethin’?” Ashe smirked, just as her thumb tugged at Widowmaker’s lower lip, forcing her to open her mouth a bit further. As she stood closer the tip of her cock lingered towards her mouth, just barely twitching thanks to the heated breath of the assassin on her pink, warm flesh. “An’ here I thought you were the coldest fish in the barrel. Guess I was wrong about you, Blueberry.”

Widowmaker’s eyes narrowed - but not nearly as much as she would’ve claimed. The woman that was once Amélie Lacroix wasn’t used to the sensations running through her, or at least...she wasn’t used to them anymore. Not since her transformation into the dead-eyed, cold-hearted assassin did she feel a heat between her nethers like she did right now, or feel a gasp of anticipation rush through the back of her throat only to crash against a member demanding her attention. With her hair unleashed from its ponytail and cascading down her slender back, with her fingers pressing against the edge of the bed and her head dipping forward, Widowmaker pressed her lips to Ashe’s cock...and whispered only once doing so could continue to brush the precum across her kiss.

“You are fortunate you are so...intruiging.” The sniper murmured to the bandit, laced in her thick, intoxicating accent. She gave a gulp that was more nervous than she wished Ashe would’ve witnessed, yet continued to press forward as her voice slinked ahead in delicate drops. Threatening, but only in the sultriest of ways. “If I did not find you appealling, you would be silent as the grave you inhabit.”

The quirk to Ashe’s brow was enormous, even nestled just underneath the brim of her hat. She offered a hearty chuckle as she finally pushed forward, ushering her tip across Widowmaker’s tongue and inviting herself to go further. Soon, she could feel her rival’s embrace slip around her member and slowly take the inches, passing bit by bit deeper and deeper until Widowmaker’s head was bobbing gently against her lap. There was no force or effort needed on the part of the smart-mouthed bandit - Widowmaker was all too eager to usher that thing down her throat, just as she was to move her hands upward to begin caressing, fondling, worshipping Ashe’s sack with her digits.

“We’ve got to work on your dirty talk, Blueberry.” She allowed the words to purr from her lips in her own heavy drawl, and a hand lowered to twist a finger around some of Widowmaker’s hair, allowing the threads to curl around her digit. “Can’t blame a girl for keepin’ that mouth busy when that’s the way you talk to her.”

The resentment that flared in Widowmaker’s eyes was scandalously brief, merely a flash before she once more swallowed a mouthful of Ashe’s taste and her entire naked frame convulsed in pleasure. With her slender figure prone on her knees, her hands fawning and petting across Ashe’s shaft, she could do little more than shiver and keep gulping down the inches exactly as her lover desired. When she pulled her head back it was only so that she could feel the tip resting along her tongue once more, and as it sat there she rolled it back and forth, teased the thin slit at the front of it, and even delicately allowed the top edge of her teeth to graze it before pushing back down once more. Every contact was gentle and doting even when she deepthroated Ashe anew - every motion an expression of the passions that her twisted mind had been forced to cast away all these years.

“Here it comes, Blueberry.” Ashe once more purred, and adjusted the brim of her hat while her other hand slipped to Widowmaker’s shoulder. She grasped her hard, steadying herself and preparing for the moment to come. Her chest was heaving and her smirk was perfectly lifted to display her beauty mark, eyes gazing down at her lover with that almost insufferably smug look on her face. “Show ol’ Ashe just how much you love what she gives you, ya hear?”

Widowmaker - or Amélie Lacroix, as she had not felt like in years - gleefully did as Ashe asked. When that member began to twitch atop her tongue she ushered it to go slow with a squeeze to the bandit’s shaft, twisting and pressing to help milk her slow and steady to a point that she could handle. Widowmaker’s throat rolled with gulp after gulp as she swallowed everything that was offered to her, and she felt her slender, dagger-thin frame coil in a pleasure she thought long lost to her. The taste, the heat, the feeling of it as it coated her throat...she had missed the simple joy of servicing someone’s member and greedily guzzling down what she had earned.

Ashe was hardly the package she expected to discover joy with again, and yet...there she was looming over her. She even lifted a hand up to pick up her hat and bring it forward, dropping it atop Amélie’s head as her length popped free past the assassin’s lips.

“Good girl. You did one hell of a job, Blueberry. And you know what that means…”

Widowmaker did indeed. The hat that sat atop her head, combined with Ashe slowly lowering herself to the bed...it could only mean one thing.

“Good girls...get to ride.” Her heavy accent carried with the hushed and excited voice, and she nibbled at her bottom lip while she prowled close. Her pussy was practically aching for Ashe’s member, and as she slid atop her to mount the bandit’s waist, she couldn’t help but let her voice quiver out past tinted lips once more. “Cowgirl style.”

Ashe merely nodded, and her smug smile spread into a wide, playful grin. It was an infectious look, and soon even Widowmaker was smiling - in a way that she hadn’t since long before she could remember. In moments that she only knew of now through scrapbooks and photos.

Perhaps she didn’t have to be Widowmaker anymore. And by the same token...she was no longer Amélie Lacroix.

Blueberry was quite the charming name, if a bit on the nose.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I encourage you to check out the Series this story is a part of. It's a collection of shorts ranging from 1k-1.5k words spreading across a bunch of different properties. If you're looking for something short and spicy, I got your number!
> 
> [Check me on Twitter!](http://www.twitter.com/DraceTales)


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